


The Ashes of a Dying Flame, The Wishes of the Dark Sun

by The_Grimm_Chronicler_and_Local_Idiot



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Author is in constant Writer's Block, Author is part of the Join The Shadelord server, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epic Bromance, Eventual Romance, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Graphic Description of Corpses, Grimm and NKG are not the same, Grimm is older than you think, Hollow is an irish prick, I need to write because I'm a lazy bastard, Lord of Shades needs a hug, Major Original Character(s), Minor Original Character(s), Moral Ambiguity, Moral Dilemmas, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Multi, Oh God I had forgotten about this, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Possible Character Death, Slow Romance, So is Hornet, Tags Are Fun, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, The Radiance needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:54:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26502454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Grimm_Chronicler_and_Local_Idiot/pseuds/The_Grimm_Chronicler_and_Local_Idiot
Summary: "Fire. It is the light that shines in the dark, giving hope to those in despair. It is the courage that runs within the veins of the brave. But alas, nothing is everlasting. Flames shall fade one day, no matter how bright or vast they become. And all shall end in ashes." - Leonhard Mythill, the Grimmshade.
Relationships: Grimm/Hornet (Hollow Knight), Grimmchild & Hornet (Hollow Knight), Lord of Shades & The Radiance (Hollow Knight), Original Female Character/Original Male Character, The Radiance/Lord of Shades
Comments: 7
Kudos: 25





	The Ashes of a Dying Flame, The Wishes of the Dark Sun

Grimm was a man that rarely hesitated. 

Everything he does is with purpose, his are movements swift and ever elegant. He is the Troupe Master, after all. He is all about refinement, and he's quite skilled at it if he says so himself.

However... This gargantuan, void-like creature peering at him - _through_ him, made the former highter being flinch inwardly. He felt a hint of familiarity from this creature, though he could not quite place a finger on it.

The Troupe Master slowly walked towards the immense Void creature whose many, ironically enough, brightened eyes stared at him with seemingly nothing less than childish curiosity and... Excitement? He was not sure, but he could sense these emotions deep within the gigantic Void creature better with each step he took towards it. 

He slowed into a halt just a few inches away from the Void creature's face. The childish excitement and curiosity he previously sensed seemed to practically emanate from it. This creature was truly alive in all senses.

This baffled The Troupe Master. Had that pale bastard not said that the void was vicious and had no mind? Perhaps he was wrong. After all, he interacted with his children and they were anything but hollow. They were not mindless. They were not emotionless. They were _alive_.

Damn that wyrm. He slaughtered countless vessels just so he could have his "Pure Vessel", but in the end, they were anything but pure. Grimm silently cursed the Pale being before softening his expression to a small smile. A genuine one. Not those he forces out as avoid being uncouth or while setting up an act. 

It was a genuine, pleasant little smile for this gentle, Voidborn giant. 

"I see you've acquainted yourself with my sibling, Grimm."

He inwardly flinched once again. What was with things attempting to scare him this day? 

With a short sigh, he pressed his palm on his forehead. Turning to face Hornet, he chuckled at the sight of her.

She wore a crown delicately made out of pale, gorgeous flowers and her cloak, instead of the usual red one, was pure black, not unlike the void surrounding the giant creature beside them. While she looked gorgeous, her expression contrasted directly with that.

The scowl on her face could frighten even the most hardened warrior. Yet, to the Troupe Master, it was nothing short of adorable. He found her efforts to intimidate him remarkably amusing, she never seemed to give up. 

It was quite endearing, the attention she always seems to unknowingly give him. Or perhaps she does know and simply denies her feelings.

Oh, who knows?

Teasing her for a bit won't hurt anyone.

"Hornet, my dear, welcome back. You seem truly majestic today... Although, no words that I can speak would ever do your boundless beauty any justice, now, would it?" Declared the Troupe Master, earning a faint blush from her as she turned her head to the side, breaking eye contact with him. Just as he expected it.

The Troupe Master chuckled once more, crossing his arms and humming for a moment. "Hm... You said they were your sibling, correct?" After receiving a nod as confirmation from Hornet, he continued, "They certainly seem... Familiar to me. I can't quite explain, however..."

Silence suddenly instilled itself amongst them for a little while before Hornet broke it, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "Do you remember that... Little vessel?" 

Grimm pondered her words for a moment before responding, "I do. They took part in my ritual - but why? Whatever happened to them? Is it that... They..." He trailed off as he followed her line of sight that appeared fixed onto the Void-creature that wordlessly stood there, alongside them, observing their previous exchange in silent curiosity. The being had been so silent and still that Grimm nearly forgot their presence when the Huntress abruptly took his attention from them. 

Nevertheless, they did not appear to be bothered.

They were satisfied with just being there, watching the pair. "Oh... How could I forget about you, my friend?" He uttered in a soft voice, placing a hand, that was dwarfed by their enormous size, on their head, petting the gargantuan Void-creature as they leaned their head forward, allowing Grimm to do so with relative ease. 

He understood what she meant. 

This otherworldly being that allowed itself to be caressed by him, was none other than his little silent friend from before. Once, they had barely been able to reach his thighs, but now, they possessed a great, extraordinary size to them, dwarfing others a hundred times. 

This was truly incredible to Grimm, he held another genuine if not wider smile on his face as he recognised that being as his little old friend, and that made him happy.

Truly happy.

* * *

"Where are you going, Troupe Master?" Questioned the huntress, hand twitching upwards for a second, nearly moving to reach out for him.

"Oh, not to worry, my dear. I'll be back in a short while." Grimm smirked as he closed the distance between them and seized her hand in his. "And you may call me Grimm, Hornet. I do not bite." He chuckled as he pressed his warm lips on her hand. "Unless you ask me to."

With that, the grinning Troupe Master left Hornet with a crimson blush unquestionably in view on her astonished face and the Void giant with an amused look by themselves. "D- Damn that obnoxious, smug b- bastard...! Hmpf..." Stammered out a flustrated Hornet, huffing and grumbling silently to herself afterwards. She glimpsed over to her grinning, enormous sibling before snapping at them, "Yo- You wipe that grin off your face!" 

That only prompted the Void giant to snicker silently in response, releasing a soft, almost imperceptible sound that resembled giggling. Their shoulders quivered discreetly and their eyes were slightly curved upwards, although the flustrated huntress had noticed, further proving that her sibling was enjoying themselves with her stubbornness to recognise and accept her feelings for the Troupe Master. 

Not unlike him, they also saw right through her bold façade. She fancied Grimm, she simply refuses to admit it.

Hornet crossed her arms and looked away from the Void giant, eyes locking themselves in the large, eerie tent across Dirtmouth. She wondered what was Troupe Master doing in there that took him this long to come back. Surely gathering clothing and essentials was not that complicated, was it? She assumed that his child was still giving him trouble, that could explain his delay.

The pair of siblings waited for Grimm in the centre of that little town. Hornet had sat on the metal bench beside Quirrel, while her sibling sat at her other side, on the ground. For obvious reasons.

* * *

The scholar was quite convinced that he was not infected. Or mad.  
  
Said infection had been abruptly halted one day with no apparent reason for it. Although, something deep within him says that little silent wanderer had something to do with this strange, unforeseen occurrence. Perhaps. He couldn't tell for certain without proof, first. Little did he know, the living proof sat right beside him.

Now, he sat beside the legendary Protector and, recently dubbed, Princess of Hallownest alongside a massive, truly frightening, Voidborn creature. But even so, he could not bring himself to run away in fear, for the Scholar was able to recognise an ounce of familiarity in this Void creature.

"Erm... Uh, Your Majesty? Forgive my intrusion here, but may I inquire what is that?"

With a lazy shift of her head, Hornet faced the Scholar, raising her brows in a mildly-interested notion. She glanced back at her sibling before deadpanning, "Oh, they're my sibling."

Quirrel was flabbergasted, to say the least. He blinked a few times, before stammering out another question. "Pa- Pardon me, your sibling?" He raised a shaky finger in the Void-creature's direction, earning for himself their attention. "Yes, my sibling. Why? Is something wrong with that?" Hornet snapped, making Quirrel quickly shake his head, raising his hands in a surrender motion. "N- No, Your Majesty! I- I- I was only attempting to make sure that t-they wasn't a danger to this little town!"

With that, the huntress chuckled, nodding slowly. She smirked at the shaken Scholar's panicked expression. "Calm thyself, Scholar. 'Tis but an inoffensive teasing of mine. Yes, they are my sibling and are completely docile..." She trailed off, widening her smirk. "... If not provoked."

This managed to calm Quirrel's racing heart, making him realize how silly it was to worry over a thing like this. Truly, Hornet would never allow a dangerous monstrosity to solely arrive and destroy everything.

Would she?

Meanwhile, Ghost wasn't sure on what Quirrel and his sister were talking about, it didn't concern him. Once the pillbug raised a shaky finger on his direction, however, he turned his attention to them. The look on Quirrel's face as they made eye contact was enough to make the Lord of Shades chuckle inwardly.

"Yes, they are my sibling and are completely docile..." Ghost could barely suppress the urge to snort at that. He wouldn't even consider harming those who were undeserving, true, but the Lord could feel the urge to consume everything around him, thus coating all in everlasting darkness. It was fairly easy to ignore the said urge, but the void within beckons the Lord almost incessantly, if left unchecked it would make the gentle Void Lord become but a simple-minded beast ravaging all of Hallownest. Although... Would turning the entirety of Hallownest into his domain of Void and darkness, consuming everything and everyone truly be something wrong...?

These thoughts were becoming alarmingly frequent as of late, plaguing his mind at every chance imaginable. the Lord of Shades feels ashamed to admit that he no longer believes he can trust himself not to act upon these morbid thoughts.

They bring one hand to their forehead, clutching it firmly. Hornet had noticed this and was about to ask before she was interrupted by the arrival of Grimm in the scene, whose arms and hands had silky bags hanging, filled with random things, several clothing and props, along with some cans made out of metal with food inside and bottles of... Alcohol. 

The huntress narrowed her eyes at the sight of them but did not say anything. She sighed and left the bench, walking over to the Troupe Master and taking some of the bags into her hands.

"I'll help you. Come, let's get this over with." Huffed the crossbreed, marching ahead of Grimm, not bothering to wait for him. "As you wish, then." He muttered with a smile on his face, trotting over to Hornet as they walked to their house.

* * *

Hornet, even for a seasoned warrior, had succumbed to the effects of the liquor that Grimm brought after drinking a few glasses with him, both having finished unpacking their possessions and cleaning their new home, together. 

He clearly remembered her words as she refused at first, "No, I will not indulge these urges to, as you put it, 'let myself go'." and even threatened him, "If you continue to persist, Troupe Master, you shall have my needle pierced through your thoracic cavity in an instant." It had been extremely amusing to him. To hear her speak such words then give in not an hour later. She drank with him for almost the whole night, idly chatting with the Troupe Master in her drunken state.

After he saw Hornet almost fall flat on her face by just standing from the chair, he decided that it was enough for the day; he would help her bathe - she didn't smell that good after so much time drinking. He wouldn't sleep near someone with such a stench. 

He attempted to aid her at first by placing her arm over his shoulders, to assist in maintaining her balance so they could make their way to the bathroom. Of course, the plan backfired when the huntress suddenly limped and this time did fall flat on her face, groaning in pain all the while.  
The Troupe Master grew more tired than he had expected to be, this woman was going to be the death of him one day, he's sure of that.

With a deep sigh, Grimm kneeled and rolled her so she was facing the ceiling. In a single movement, he scooped her out of the ground into his arms; like a man carrying his bride. The huntress had hummed happily at that, throwing her arms around his neck and holding him close to her. He had heard Hornet slowly hum an unknown melody, her head swaying with each step he took.

"Grimm...?" Had the Troupe Master poor hearing, he wouldn't have heard her say it, her voice soft as it had been that moment. Halting his movement, he looked at the huntress half-asleep in his arms. She was glancing up at him with tired, half-lidded eyes; the little smile she offered him was nothing short of adorable. His naturally warm face felt like it was burning when she brought a hand to his cheek, rubbing it a little. They held each other's gaze in a loving, silent moment, save for the sound of Grimm's beating heart and their breaths as they slowly closed the gap between them, their lips nearly meeting one another. 

Their faces were but mere inches apart. Both could feel their breaths against them, but not only that. They could feel the other's passion, the desire, the heat of their bodies as they unconsciously brought themselves ever closer together.

Then, as quick as the moment came, it left. Hornet suddenly giggled, bringing her hand over her mouth, watching the Troupe Master snap back to reality and stare at her with unamused eyes, his mouth forming a straight line. Her amusement over his confusion and disappointment made him grumble under his breath before resuming his path to the bathroom. 

* * *

"Uh... So, my very big friend. You, uh, you are Lady Hornet's sibling, yes?" The Lord of Shades crossed his arms, glancing sideways to Quirrel. He hummed in affirmation, nodding his head nonchalantly. 

The pillbug nodded as well, shifting his gaze anywhere but at the giant monstrosity beside him. They remained in relative silence until said Void giant turned his head to look directly at Quirrel, almost burning a hole through his cheek with how intently he was staring. "... Why...?" It was then when Quirrel almost considered running away as swiftly as his legs allowed him to.

The Void giant spoke to him. 

He was willing to dismiss that as a trick of the mind until the Void being repeated his question. "... Quirrel, you ok?" Oh, goodness. 

His voice. 

It was a mixture of gruff like the Old Stag's but also raspy like Grimm's... It was fairly good to listen to, though it was rather silent like the owner. The absurdity of this whole situation Quirrel found himself into almost made him cackle like a madman. 

Ghost wondered briefly if his pillbug friend would ever recognize him. But that's a problem for another day. Maybe he could mess with him even further. 

Breaking his mind doesn't sound so bad-

No. Stop.

He uncrossed his arms and placed two hands over his face, slowly rubbing it. These morbid thoughts are becoming dangerously frequent as of late. 

Damn it. 

The hands fall to clasp themselves and he fully turns himself to Quirrel, his hand beings to scratch the palm of his other one. He noticed that he does that whenever he's anxious or excited. Like a nervous tic, he supposes.

"... I... I have to g- go, n- no- now. Sis- sister... Awai- awaits me. Farewell, Quir- Quirrel." He waved at the pillbug before giggling at his flabbergasted face and moving away, towards Hornet's home. The Lord of Shades did not remain to listen to his reply; if he had any at all.

Slowly slithering deeper within the little, cosy town of Dirtmouth, Ghost was surprised to see that gentle, elderly bug kneeling in front of a small group of delicate, pale white flowers, watering them and humming a tone similar to that cartographer's, but what was his name? 

Ah, yes, Cornifer. 

A tone that was similar to Cornifer's.

He didn't want to scare the poor bug, but how do you approach an elder without scaring them while being a massive, pitch-black creature? He had no idea how, but he had to try at least.

"He- Hello... Sir...?" 

"A- Ah... Greetings, young-" Once the elder's eyes met with Ghost's, he shivered head to toe with fright. He could not scream nor run, he was completely paralysed with fear of this monster. The Lord of Shades could sense it, so he slowly raised his four arms in a non-threatening manner, seeking to calm the poor, now completely terrified, elder. "I... Am sorry to dis- disturb you, sir- sir... I am not- A monster," Once these words reached the elder's ears, his shivering halted, though the fear in his eyes had yet to leave entirely. With that said, Ghost lowered his arms; slowly, and continued, "I am an old friend. I wa- was that tiny knight that you sp- spoke with, long a- ago..." 

Talking was still really difficult for the former vessel, being that his previous form did not allow him to do so. Forming sentences and pronouncing them was fairly challenging, he concluded. Still, he has to get better at verbal communication, he cannot always rely on people assuming what he wants with gestures or so. It's a wonder how he managed to uphold a conversation with so many people in Hallownest in his time as a vessel. Even if they were, in fact, one-sided.

"A- Ah... Truly? You... Are different than I remember, my friend..." The elder moved his gaze away for a moment before locking it once again at Ghost's bright eyes. "Yes... I see it now. You were that little bug running around... The one to give me," He lowered himself to grab a flower from the ground, his elderly bones struggling a moment before managing to remove one of the pale flowers. "This... This beautiful, precious little flower. The one I had always cherished it..." 

He closed his eyes and clasped the flower to his chest, sighing inwardly. Then, he opened them and offered a warm, gentle smile for the Shadelord. "It is truly grand to see you again, my enormous friend."

* * *

The chilly wind howled incessantly on the Hallownest's Crown, on top of Crystal Peak. There, stood the massive, damaged statue of a once-forgotten goddess, at the edge of the peak. Perhaps, in a distant past, that same statue could've meant something special. In this new era of Hallownest, however, it's meaning has been lost to time, it was but a mere worthless statue of a nameless goddess. 

In front of the said statue, a lone figure sat, golden eyes locked onto it as tears trickled down from her cheeks, onto the cold, hard ground she found herself on. 

_"Why...?"_ Left the silent whisper from the moth goddess' lips as she broke the stare, lowering her vision to the ground, her wings thrown limply on both sides. A wing raised to brush away the sorrow-filled tears that seemed to flow freely, streaming down her fur covered cheeks that had traces of sand, flukes and mud. 

The once radiant, gorgeous pale white fur that covered the moth goddess was nowhere in sight; replaced with a filthy and discoloured version of it. The proud, bright goddess has been reduced to a mere sobbing mess.

Radiance was no longer the most powerful being. And that thought scared her to her very being.

All she had done, all the lives she took, all the bugs and powerful beings infected, the death of thousands of Vessels; it was all for nothing, but a petty attempt at revenge against a spineless coward.

She felt nothing but regret and disgust at her actions. 

She doesn't remember when she left. She doesn't remember how she got in the crossroads. If the goddess was honest with herself, she didn't remember much of anything, except the infection and its victims - her victims.

Radiance sat by herself in a lonely room within the forgotten crossroads. Silvery legs hugged close to her bosom, golden eyes unfocused and directed at the empty den in the room. The entirety of the room was still and silent, save for the soft sound of the goddess' slow breathing and the slight rise and fall of her chest.

She did not notice as a mysterious figure appeared after the doorway, watching her with bright, pale eyes.

Then, a whisper left the figure, claiming her attention to them. "Radiance...?"

With breakneck speed, her head snapped at the figure's direction and as she looked at them, her golden eyes widened and her breath left her. It was him. Her ancient enemy. The complete opposite of her. He was darkness itself given mind and form.

_**"The Shadelord."** _

Head tilted to the side for a moment before slowly making his way towards the crestfallen goddess. That was until she raised a wing at him, halting him. She half-lidded her eyes and formed a tired smile, chuckling and lowering her wing. 

"I must admit, I did not think I would ever lay eyes upon your figure ever again, **Void**." Ghost shrugged and chuckled as well, making the white moth tilt her head to the side in mild curiosity and amusement. "You are able to make _sounds_?" Her question made him let out another chuckle and a nod, this time. "Of course you can. What else can you do that I am not aware of?" 

This whole situation was confusing and weird to the Lord of Shades. He had spotted the moth goddess as she arrived at the crossroads and thought that she had returned to wreak havoc once again in Hallownest, so he followed her as stealthily as he could, seeking to spy on her and spoil whatever plot she was forming.

That, fortunately, was not the case and it was confirmed as he finally took a good look at her figure. 

She appeared... Filthy. Crestfallen. Tired.

Once, the Ghost of Hallownest had felt pure rage at the thought of the Goddess. She had enslaved the minds of many bugs; some even being his friends. Fortunately, one of the former infected, Myla, was saved by the former wandering vessel, spared of the goddess' wrath.

Now, however, as his eyes focused on her visage, the Lord could not help but feel pity and slight sympathy towards Radiance. He could see the exhaustion and broken will underneath her golden, dim orbs. Her once lustrous pale fur was now discoloured and grey-ish, with several darkened stains of mud, sand and dead flukes.

Everything about her now just made him pity her even more.

"What's it gonna be, huh? You gonna finally finish me off? End what that pale, spineless bastard begun...?" That sounded so... Colloquial. Nevertheless, the goddess-

... Could she even be labelled as a goddess anymore? She now resembled and acted like anything but. 

"Say something..." She whispered, her body shaking slightly. Be it from the chilly temperature of the room or her fear of perishing, she could not be certain. Her lip quivered, a troubled expression replacing the worn look before as she stared deep within the Shadelord's white eyes. Then, she shouted at him, raising her voice to such an extent that it was a wonder how no other being had come to investigate. 

_"SAY SOMETHING, DAMN YOU!"_

The moth scoffed as the Lord remained silent.

"... Typical... You are just as cowardly as the pale wyrm... Tell me, Void; What do you seek with one such as I?" 

She slowly shook her head, golden eyes locked into the Voidborne's bright ones. Radiance noticed the slight twitching of his fingers, her eyes wandered through his very being, watching him every second.

She had seen it. Deep within him. An agonizing sorrow and hidden, repressed rage. He is someone just as broken as her. Someone without a purpose. Someone... _Forgotten_...?

No, do not allow these stray thoughts plague your mind, Radiance. You cannot allow yourself to feel anything for this abyssal monstrosity. This wretched, maniacal and twisted personification of the Void. Be it something as insignificant as sympathy.

"Tell me, Lord. What do you seek with one such as I...?"

Radiance noticed his flinching. The subtle, sudden rise of his chest. The broken eye contact. The twitching of his fingers intensifying itself for a split second.

She had noticed it.

"What do you say, then?"

The Lord of Shades once again remained silent. However, just as the moth nearly blurted a sarcastic remark, the other finally spoke.

"I... I had... Followed you here," Yes, that confirms her earlier suspicions. So he was, in fact, following her.

The question now is, why?

"I thought- I thought you were attempting to plan another attack on Hallownest, so I... Well... Ca- Came here to stop y-you, I suppose. Wouldn't be too hard." He declared nonchalantly, shrugging his arms. She could perceive the faint outline of a smile on his face- 

He was _mocking_ her?!

"You suppose? You truly are worse than that pale cringer!" Radiance points at him, indignant and flabbergasted. How dare he! He spouts these lies, he keeps saying these hurtful things and now everyone hates her and... "You hurt me, You stalked me... And now you _**ridicule**_ m- me...?" Her voice begins to crack, hurt and confusion seeping into her voice. "... Have I not paid the price...? I lost it all. My children, my kingdom... Everything..." She gazes into the Shadelord's eyes, her golden tears once again flowing freely as her lower lip quivered and she began trembling. 

She does not care if he sees. 

She is sick of hiding. Sick of having to waste all her existence in misery for the wickedness of that pale coward. Radiance is sick of everything. 

Perhaps it was time for her to ultimately yield, this would be the end of her journey, yes? She'd lose the last thing she has, the thing she'd been clinging to after all this time.

Her life.

Sobbing subsequently erupts out of her throat as her mind reaches its limit. She collapses onto her knees in front of the Lord, wailing mindlessly and anticipating him to slay her mercilessly, just as she deserves... After all, she is just as accountable as the Pale Cringer for all those needless losses. All these lives consumed by the pointless conflicts of petty gods.

"Oh- Oh, Lord of Shades... I beseech thee... Strike me down. Devour the light thou hath so frantically pursued. Prithee, Shade, end me. Allow this ancient, perpetual moth to... Have her final rest." She was imploring for either death or peace, as long as the pain stops.

"No." Was his answer, which silenced the tineid entirely. He slowly slithered closer to her, his eyes never leaving her terror-filled ones. 

As golden drops threatened to spill from her eyes, she stammered out a weak, "Wha- What...?" With said orbs observing his every movement towards her. With the gap separating those two towering beings closed, their faces were but mere inches apart. 

She felt his cool breath on her and the Void within desperate to consume her and her light.

He felt her waning light, seeking comfort and safety on him, though it knows she shall never be truly safe while beside him. 

Seizing advantage of Radiance's distraction on him, his arms took hold of her wings, with two hands on each. With a firm, yet gentle grip, the Lord of Shades and former Vessel said in a low tone to the frightened, crestfallen moth,

_"You are coming with me."_

* * *

"Ugh... What...? What happened?" 

The half-arachnid groaned aloud, laying the tip of her fingers on her temples. What has happened? She couldn't remember anything... Maybe she could ask- 

Grimm. Where is he? 

Glancing to the side, she saw no being other than his daughter near her, laying on top of his side of their bed. The little Grimmchild slumbered near her. 

Hornet pulled the sheets away, uncovering herself in a slow motion. Cafeful, as to no awake the sleeping young lass. 

The princess pondered about the heiress. Specifically, her origins. Did the Troupe Master have before her? Well, the man did live through several millennia, it was not far-fetched to assume he has had many women throughout his past incarnations. Thinking about such a thing serves no purpose other than to hurt her, yet... It makes her feel as if she is just another woman that fell in love with him. Merely another one on his collection. Just another toy for Grimm to use and discard when she grows old and sluggish and frail and hideous and-

The woeful line of thought is broken abruptly with nudge at her side accompanied by the familiar yet welcoming sound of the heiress' soft mewling. 

"Ah... Good morning, little Allie." Murmurs Hornet, picking up the youthful girl and cradling her. As the huntress' lower arms held Alethea, her other hands took the liberty to caress the lass. "How are you-" 

She never got to finish her sentence. The Grimmchild threw her wings around her surrogate mother's neck, holding her in a loving embrace. She buried her face on the crossbreed's shoulders, mewling quietly as she muttered out intelligible noises at her mother's ear. 

No... They were no mere sounds. She was... 

"Nyo... Nyo wry..." 

She- _She was talking!_ Her daughter was talking! After all those months with countless failures as both Hornet and Grimm attempted to teach Alethea basic speech. No matter, now- now she _speaks_! 

"Mama... Ma... Nyo wry..." What does she speak, however? Nyo wry, nyo wry... It almost sounds lik- 

... Don't cry...? 

One hand slowly touches her face. Wet. Was she crying? Why? Ah... Those terrible, hurtful thoughts...

Grimm loves her. He loves her. He admits that almost everyday, even if Hornet never says it back. They live not unlike a married couple, yet neither Master nor Huntress had been the one to finally close the gap and oficialize their... Union, she supposes. She never told Grimm that she loved him; and oh, she loved him. Shame crawls on her back everytime she reminds herself of that fact. 

Hornet snaps back to reality, wiping her tears away and returning the child's embrace. They held each other until the half-arachnid chuckled, tapping Alethea on the back with a light, gentle touch. 

"Young lass," She begins, gently prying the heiress off. The little splitting image of Grimm let out an indignant squeak as the crossbreed once again cradled her with the lower arms. She chuckles, looking at those beady black eyes that'll soon be crimson like her father's. "We must search for your father." She finally finishes her sentence, picking up her mask from the nightstand.

"We are going to make a trip to a beautiful place."

* * *

Minuscule drops of water clashed against the enormous glass walls in the City of Tears. 

Within one of the buildings, the crossbreed and the Troupe Master's daughter had seated themselves on a metal bench and were preoccupied with their own thoughts. The almost complete stillness and silence - save for the current tip tapping of the water on the glass walls nearby - had left the atmosphere so thickened it could have been pierced with a nail. 

Alethea, the young lass, shivered as she curled up on herself, using her wings as an improvised cover against the cold. The fire within her had yet to grow strong, hence her sensitivity to this low temperature. 

She mewled softly, surprised, as a smooth and gentle hand found its way on the top of her head. The youthful girl raised herself slightly to glance at the source. It was Hornet, her surrogate mother. Maskless and smiling softly at her as her hands caressed her soft ears. 

The huntress chuckled softly, rubbing one ear of the Grimmchild, and asked with a warm, motherly tone. "Oh... Poor thing. Are you cold?" Hornet shifted her position to fully face the young one. She slipped her hands under girl's wings and lifted her up, bringing her to her lap. From under her standard, crimson cloak, a second pair of arms revealed themselves, moving to hug the child closer to her as one upper arm hanged behind her; over the bench and one rested on the knee of the crossed leg that supported the young heiress. 

And to Alethea, this made her enjoy Hornet even more! it was like she sought to chase away this bad, bad cold and keep her safe... Because even if they're very different, Hornet is still her mama, yes? Her papa loves Hornet, so why shouldn't she consider her as her mother? 

She is so excited, she has never had a mother before! She can already imagine the loads of fun she'll have with Hornet, her mama! 

Grimm's familiar chuckle reached the crossbreed's ears without warning, his footsteps light as he walked towards them, a wide smile plastered on his face. He appeared to hold a small, red box in one of his hands. He was certainly pleased to see Hornet with his daughter. The Huntress' usual frown was visible on her unmasked face, as the white thing hanged from the metal bench. 

Ah, that adorable glare. 

The former higher being smirked, crossing his arms. He adores when Hornet tries to intimidate him.

"I see you are bonding with Alethea, my dear." 

The frowning half-arachnid did not utter a word. Simply, she placed the Grimmchild on the metal bench, the heiress purring softly as she was fast asleep there. Ignorant of the exchange between her father and surrogate mother.

The crossbreed marched in Grimm's direction, fury so clearly in view on her dark green eyes. Grimm uncrossed his arms, looking at her while that smug smirk was still plastered on his face. "Oh, my dear Hornet, your eyes seem to emanate wrath. Whatever could be- Ack!" 

She shut him up with by driving her fist into his gut. 

The Troupe Master wheezed and coughed in pain, bending forward slightly and laying a hand on the assaulted area. He let out some pained laughter. The smug bastard. She glared at him and whiper-yelled at him. "You damn bastard...! You left me all alone with your infant daughter and did not even leave me a note," The Huntress began to lose her composure, her voice growing ever louder as she continued to yell at Grimm; all her concern of the child's slumber forgotten.

"You also didn't think of telling someone to inform me of your location, should I wake from slumber before you arrive - nothing...! Better yet, you could have told me the day before, Grimm! Do you have anything at all to say for yourself?!" She pointed her finger at his face, preparing herself to continue shouting at him. However, she noticed that the former higher being had lost interest on her - rather - he was looking behind her, at the metal bench. His expression no longer held that smug smile and sure-of-himself eyes... But a tired, sad look. Lips curved downward and his fiery crimson seemed dull, now. 

Hornet's eyes widened as she slowly turned around. Her heart fell, sinking within the depths of herself as her viridian orbs met the heiress tear-filled dark ones. 

She saw as the Grimmchild peeked from over the metal bench, her lips quivering and her tears threatening to fall. Her rage melted away in a blink, replaced with motherly concern and worst of all, guilt. Her old friend comes back to torment her. 

Then, Alethea's sniffles turn into actual wailing, prompting the pair to forget everything else and rush to the young lass' side. Hornet picked her mask and placed it over her head, seeking to hide her ashamed expression from Grimm and his sobbing daughter. The Master of the Troupe picked the girl up, cradling her in his long arms and holding her close to his naturally warm body. He shot the huntress a tired look and as no words left him, he sighed and turned around, slowly walking away from there. 

Hornet remained there, alone. Staring at where Grimm once was, with his daughter. Now, they had left for their home. She closed her viridian, bright eyes, clenching her fists tightly and sighed deeply. 

... You can do it, Hornet. You can fix this. Just apologise for this, it is nothing. Everyone makes mistakes. It was so petty, though. Are you sure you can do this? He bought a gift for you, have you not noticed it? He did that for you and spat at him. You are like a spoiled child. You are ungrateful. You are a horrible person. You push away those who love you. You are undeserving of them. 

You are just like your father. 

_"NO!"_ She shouted to no one. Breathing heavily, she clutched her forehead through her mask, shaking her head slowly. "Damnit... I am not..." She sniffles once, looking at the exit. 

"I am not like _him_."

The Huntress then leaves to find The Troupe Master and his daughter. She will fix this. She killed deadly beasts and mighty infected warriors before. Fixing a slightly damaged relationship shouldn't be so hard. She didn't do anything too harsh, did she? 

She probably should stop overthinking and just leave. 

And that she does. 


End file.
